Two Months
by Sandman Sam
Summary: A gift for thecreationmonster. Sterek. Soul Mates!AU. Rated T for minor swearing. And hints of smut. (Just a little.) "Because even though clear as day the name is Derek, it couldn't be Derek Hale. Derek practically hates Stiles, and you can't hate your soul mate."


Stiles looks at the cuff on his right wrist and sighs, his computer chair spinning to a stop. He really shouldn't feel like this is such a big deal. Shouldn't even be focused on it. He's only in high school. So what if he hasn't found his person yet? Soul mates meet when they're ready. No sooner.

Except Stiles can't shake the feeling that he has. And no, he knows it's not Lydia. Perfect, beautiful Lydia who found her soul mate in the seventh grade, three weeks after the names appeared. Sixth grade is when everyone is given a cuff to cover up the slow reveal of their soul mate's name on their wrist, just below the palm.

In the solace of his own room he unclasps the leather cuff, dropping it into his lap. Across his wrist, as if his soul mate signed their name with a thin, silver sharpie is a name. It's a name he's heard, but he can't know for sure if it's them. Because even though clear as day the name is Derek, it couldn't be Derek Hale. Derek practically hates Stiles, and you can't hate your soul mate.

"Stiles, do you ever worry about using your nickname?" Isaac found him the next day at lunch.

"No, why?" Stiles asked.

"Because, it's not your name." Isaac said, like it's obvious.

"Yeah?" Stiles nodded. "If you're making an actual point, I'm not seeing it."

"He's asking how you plan on finding your soul mate, if they won't even know you by your real name." Allison spoke up.

That makes Stiles stop. No, he hadn't thought of that before. If he did introduce himself to his soul mate, they'd never know. Because he didn't give them the name that would be scrawled across their wrist. He feels like kicking himself it's so painful.

His thought process must be pretty evident by his facial expressions because Isaac looks pained for him, and Allison gives him a sympathetic pat on the back. But another thought triggers. Derek doesn't know his real name. Or he might, because it's written on his wrist. But he doesn't know that it's Stiles. Can you hate your soul mate?

"No, of course not. Why?" Allison asked.

Stiles freezes. He didn't think he'd asked it out loud. Damn, traitor of a mouth.

"No reason. My brain asks weird questions sometimes. Ignore it." Stiles waved it off. "I usually do."

The rest of lunch is a kind of slow decent down a rabbit of hole of thoughts for Stiles. He thinks about it at every angle he can think of, and he only comes to one conclusion. If he wants to know if Derek is his or not, he's got to admit his actual name. But he could be wrong. He can't know if Derek is his, unless he knows two things. The name on his wrist, and the way he signs his name. Because it has to match the way Derek is written on Stiles. And vice versa. It's been a while since Stiles had to sign his real name, but he does for banking stuff, so he knows what it looks like. A little sloppy, a little curvy, like his mom taught him.

"You smell like you're freaking out."

Stiles jumps about a foot in the air and turns to see Derek leaning against his Jeep, other students milling to their cars, trying to put as much distance between them and the school as they can for one evening. Stiles can't blame them. But right now he can't join them either.

"I do not." Stiles argued, it's pitiful and doesn't sound true even to his human ears.

"Right." Derek looks unconvinced too.

"What do you want, Derek?" Stiles asked.

"I want to know why you're freaking out." Derek said.

"I'm not. I just...realized some stuff today." Stiles said.

"Stuff?" Derek raises an eyebrow.

"Yes, Derek, stuff. My own little existential crisis. I'm in high school. I'm allowed to have one every so often." Stiles said.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Derek asked.

Stiles can't help the small laugh that escapes. He must smell terrible if Sourwolf is trying to help him out. But then the thought of Derek helping sends what little air is in Stiles's lungs out, and he fidgets. He's just starting to acclimate to the hope that maybe this Derek could be his Derek, and now he's standing there asking him to tell him about it. How can he dodge his way out of this one?

"Derek...how do you sign your name?" Stiles blurted, dropping his gaze to the ground.

"Why?" Derek asked.

Stiles fidgets, wanting desperately to turn and run, but he knows it would take less than six strides and Derek would catch him. Stupid wolf powers. He absentmindedly reaches for his leather cuff, rubbing it.

"Stiles?" Derek asked.

"That's not my real name." Stiles admitted.

"I know." Derek said. "You said you prefer it over your real name."

"Derek." Stiles makes an annoyed sound, like he's more frustrated with himself than Derek.

"Stiles, what's your real name?" Derek asked.

Stiles can't quite decipher the other man's tone. It's not his usual gruff. But it's not soft. It's commanding, but it leaves him room to not answer. But he wants to answer. More than anything he does. He's also very terrified.

"Geniem." Stiles admitted. "After my mother's father."

There's a pregnant pause. Stiles can't look up off the ground. All of his snarky defense seeps away, and he suddenly feels very vulnerable. And the last place he wants to be vulnerable in, is a high school parking lot.

"Get in your Jeep. We're taking this somewhere else." Derek said.

Stiles wordlessly follows, happy for the temporary out. But then he realizes Derek's getting into the passenger seat, and his heart jumps in his chest like a jack hammer. He ignores it, coaxing his Jeep to life and out of the parking lot. He doesn't even notice Scott giving them strange looks. He just drives, eventually ending up home. He's not surprised. He was kind of on autopilot.

Before he can ask Derek if he'd rather them go somewhere else, Derek is out of the Jeep and walking to his porch. Stiles scrambles to follow, managing to unlock his front door and let them in on the first try. That's a good start. Maybe.

"Do you have a piece of paper?" Derek asked.

Stiles stops, confused, until he realizes what Derek means. They're going to sign their names and show it to the other person. It's a lot less intimate than taking off your cuff and showing people. This way, if it's not them, they don't see the real mark. It stays between you and your soul mate.

Stiles goes to his father's office and pulls out a sheet of copy paper and a sharpie. He goes into the dining room where they can both sit at the table. A table feels safer right now. Less intimate than a couch, but they can still sit. Derek takes the sharpie and uncaps it, signing his name in a neat, almost elegant scrawl.

Stiles looks at the signature for a long time. He doesn't need to take off the cuff to compare, he knows every stroke and loop. Unable to say anything at fist he lays his head down on the table. He justifies it as processing. He can hear Derek shifting in his seat so he takes a steadying breath and sits up. Carefully he takes the sharpie and signs his name. Derek doesn't move.

"I thought you hated me." Stiles blurted.

"I hated your sarcastic defense mechanism and lack of self preservation." Derek said. "I've grown accustomed to the first. I'm still annoyed by the second."

Stiles lets out a laugh. It's a mix of nervous and happy.

"Stiles?" Derek asked. "May I...see your wrist?"

Stiles rubs the leather cuff. He shouldn't feel hesitant about showing his soul mate their name. But it's the first time anyone else will have seen it. He isn't even registered in the soul mate registry. He's not eighteen until June. He holds out his wrist, silently asking Derek to do the honors of removing the cuff.

Derek's hands are warm, but tender, and he holds Stiles's wrist with one and unclasps the cuff with the other. Stiles watches in a kind of removed fascination as the leather cuff drops away to the table, and they both can see the same neat, almost elegant scrawl. Derek reaches up and runs his thumb across it, making Stiles shiver.

And then his hands are gone, and Stiles blinks, surprised. But it's explained away when Derek is holding out his right hand, offering Stiles the chance to reciprocate. Stiles's hands aren't as warm, because he doesn't run a temperature of 101, and they're shaking slightly, but he's gentle. The clasps come undone and the cuff slides off, a little more worn looking than Stiles's. And he sees it, as if he wrote it their himself. His name. His real name.

"You still called me Stiles." Stiles realized.

"I'll call you whichever you want me to." Derek said.

"If we're in public, or around friends, I'd prefer Stiles." Stiles said.

He doesn't add the in private part of that thought just yet. It's still too new for him.

"I understand." Derek said.

"I won't be eighteen until June." Stiles said.

"Okay." Derek said. "We could still work on the preliminaries, so they'll be finished by the time you're eighteen."

Stiles reaches out, touching Derek's wrist softly, thinking. It's the quietest Derek's ever seen him, but he won't tease him about it. This is big news for both of them. He's patient enough to wait for Stiles to find the words.

Stiles thinks about the preliminaries. It's essentially a lot of paperwork that says you've found and accepted your soul mate. It's quicker than a marriage license, and just as binding. It strikes Stiles as odd that some people marry without finding their soul mates. He understands people who marry after their soul mate has died. But to not try and find them at all? Or worse, turn away from a soul mate? He can't imagine it.

Then he realizes, he's going to be married at eighteen. Not two weeks ago he was worried he might never find his soul mate, and now he was going to be married in two months? Talk about a change.

"Is this going to be weird?" Stiles asked.

"It's going to change things." Derek said in a measured tone.

"I mean between us." Stiles said softly.

"I don't hate you, Stiles. I never hated you. It was just so hard to understand you sometimes...until I got to know you." Derek said. "We didn't get off on the best foot, but I think we've made it alright, all things considered."

"Does it change pack stuff?" Stiles asked.

"It does. You're an alpha mate." Derek nodded. "It heightens your status."

"What does that mean?" Stiles asked.

"It means the wolves in the pack will naturally respect you more. They'll protect you more fiercely. You're my equal in their eyes." Derek said.

"What about your eyes?" Stiles asked, looking at him.

"You're both mine, and my equal in my eyes." Derek said honestly. "In some places higher, in some lower. But in all things, perfectly balanced to for each other."

"So you're...you're okay with this? With us? You don't...want to...find anyone else?" Stiles asked.

"Do you?" Derek asked.

"No!" Stiles blurted. "I mean...if you're my soul mate, then I don't want anyone else."

"I don't want anyone but my soul mate, either." Derek grabbed his hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb.

Stiles shoulders slump, and he reeks of relief.

"You shouldn't doubt you're worth, Stiles." Derek said, guessing at the underlying problem.

"I'm one hundred and forty pounds of pale skin, high IQ, and sarcasm. It's a little hard to feel worth someone else in that respect." Stiles said honestly.

"We'll change that." Derek said.

Stiles flushed, a slow grin forming on his face. There moment gets broken by the sound of a car pulling into the drive.

"My dad." Stiles said. "We should put our cuffs back on."

"Do you want to tell him today?" Derek asked.

"Yes." Stiles said at once. "I just...this is really personal for me. I love my dad. But seeing my name on your wrist, it's something I'd like to keep to myself as much as possible."

Derek nodded, and easily slipped Stiles's cuff back on him, clasping it. Stiles does the same for the Derek, finishing the clasp just as his dad opens the door.

"Hey, kid. I'm home." He called.

"In here, dad." Stiles said, his tone wobbling slightly.

"Stiles?" His dad came around the corner.

The first thing he sees is Stiles fidgeting in his seat, the next thing he sees is Derek sitting caddy corner to him. Then his eyes fall to the table where a piece of white copy paper has two signatures on it.

"Something you wanna tell me, son?" John asked.

"Dad." Stiles cleared his throat. "I...we...that is to say we're...um..."

"Soul mates." Derek finished for him.

Stiles gives a lopsided grin and a nod, looking at his dad.

"Soul mates?" John asked. "You've known each other over a year and you're just now saying you're soul mates?"

"Yeah. That was...a little my fault." Stiles said. "I mean, we got off on the wrong foot, and then there was so much drama, and we didn't really get to know each other at first. So I was fairly sure Derek couldn't stand me at one point, and so even though I knew the name on my wrist was Derek, I doubted it was him. Plus he didn't react to my name, so I pushed it aside. Until Isaac brought up a good point, that I was always using a nickname. Not the name that my soul mate would be expecting."

He paused, looking at his dad, rubbing his cuff.

"So after realizing that I'd never told Derek my real name, I decided to do a bit of a do over. I needed to know, and I'm telling you the truth, dad. He's mine, and I'm his. We did the paper signatures, and I saw his wrist." Stiles finished.

"You saw it?" John asked.

"Yes, literally minutes before you came home. This is all still super new." Stiles nodded.

John stared at his son for a long moment, and then looked at Derek who was gazing back at him. Waiting for the questions he guessed would be coming.

"You've accepted my son?" John asked.

"Yes." Derek said.

"You won't try and walk away just because he's human or younger or a boy?" John asked.

"No." Derek said, face deadly serious.

"You'll want a legally binding register when he's of age?" John asked.

"Yes." Derek nodded, face softening.

"And as far as living arrangements?" John asked.

"We haven't discussed it yet, but I'd like for him to live with me, in the loft, when he's of age." Derek said.

"It's a den thing." Stiles spoke up. "I read about it in one of Peter's books."

"Yes, at a base level, it can be explained as a den thing. But it's also a personal choice." Derek nodded.

"I need time to think about things like moving." Stiles said.

"If you need more than two months, I can wait." Derek said.

"I won't." Stiles said. "But I do need more than ten minutes."

"I understand." Derek said.

John watched their interaction, relaxing marginally.

"I'm going to order pizza. And you're not going to read me the riot act. I've earned my grease and three cheese." John said, walking to the kitchen.

"At least get a healthy one too." Stiles called.

"Fine." John relented.

Dinner is a little awkward until John relaxes and admits to himself that he wouldn't have much control over Stiles's decisions in this matter, whether or not he was seventeen when this happened. So he sits back and lets Stiles direct the conversation, Derek speaking every now and then.

"I have something for you." John comes into the kitchen as Derek and Stiles clean up, a long black box in his hand.

"Me?" Stiles asked.

"Both of you, really." John sets the box on the counter and opens it.

Two identical black cuffs sit side by side, wide enough to cover the names, but not chunky or overdecorated. Easy for either men or women to pull off, in Stiles's opinion. He feels a little lump in his throat. His parents would have picked these out together when he was a kid. His mother would have seen these and imagined her baby boy wearing one of them. But more than that, a black cuff means you've found your soul mate, that you've accepted them, legally binding yet or not. For an underage person to wear one is the equivalent to being engaged.

"You don't have to wear them just yet, if you want to keep it quiet." John said. "I just thought you deserved the option."

Stiles hugs his dad without words. It's the second time today he's been speechless. He kind of hopes this isn't a pattern. He likes being able to express himself with witty and sarcastic speech.

"Thank you." Stiles murmured.

"Love you, kid." John said.

"Love you." Stiles said.

John lets him go and leaves the kitchen, the decision isn't his to witness. Stiles looks down at the box and then looks at Derek, who's staring at them with a look he can't discern.

"Do you...would you be okay with wearing one...early?" Stiles asked.

"I just...I didn't expect this." Derek admitted. "I know my parents bought cuff sets for all of the children, but after the fire...none of the preparations I'd made growing up survived it. I never thought that maybe my soul mate would have something too."

"It's okay. I don't mind." Stiles said. "I don't need a lot of preparations. We'll build it all up together."

Derek looks at him, face flickering from hope to need and back. Stiles reaches over and touches his cuff. Derek turns his wrist, clasp facing Stiles. Stiles's hands aren't shaking this time. They're eager and tender as the cuff slips away and he puts on the sleek, black cuff. The clasp clicks into place, and it's the most satisfying sound Stiles has ever heard.

Derek does the same for Stiles's cuff. He stares at the black cuff, looking at the contrast of it on his pale skin. The feel of it wrapped around his wrist. It feels foreign and normal all at the same time. He looks at the black cuff on Derek's wrist and a grin comes to the surface. He likes the sight of that very much.

Derek puts two fingers under Stiles's chin, forcing him to look up. There's a silent question there that surprises Stiles. More surprised that he hadn't thought of it. He gives a small nod and Derek closes the distance between them, lips meeting lips in a curious kiss. Stiles practically melts into the kiss, hands on Derek's chest. Derek wraps one arm around his waist, holding them together. Stiles is practically humming by the time the kiss ends.

"We should do that. A lot." Stiles blurted.

Derek grinned, looking amused as Stiles flushes.

"There will be plenty of time for that." Derek said.

That gets Stiles's attention. Derek just laughs.

Stiles is not freaking out. He's not. He's just extremely energetic and his Adderall is doing little to settle his attention span today. He walks into the school, trying to play everything off as cool. Maybe no one will notice.

"What the hell is on your wrist?" Erica is standing in front of his locker.

People turn and look, her tone easily carrying over the tired mumbles of the passing students. Stiles flushes, ducking his head as he walks over to his locker.

"Practicing for the opera, Erica?" Stiles asked.

"You're wearing a black cuff." She said.

"So it would seem." Stiles nodded.

"You found your soul mate?" Erica asked.

"Does it need to be said? They don't exactly hand these out for shits and giggles." Stiles said.

"Who is she? Do we know her?" Erica asked.

"He." Stiles admitted.

Erica stops, looking at him.

"I didn't...I thought you were..." She trailed.

"If we're talking sexuality, I find myself in the middle of that spectrum." Stiles shrugged.

"So who is he?" She asked.

"Erica." Stiles looked at her. "Please."

"I want to be supportive. Is he a student?" Erica asked.

"No. Older." Stiles admitted.

"Is he a teacher?" Erica asked.

"No!" Stiles laughed. "Do you really think a high school hallway is the best place to interrogate me about these kinds of things?"

"Promise you won't keep him a secret?" Erica asked.

"I promise. Now, can I get into my locker, please?" Stiles asked.

Erica moves over, granting him access to his books.

Isaac catches him on their way to English class, taking one look at the black cuff, his eyes going wide.

"Oh my god. You and DE-"

Stiles slapped a hand over Isaac's mouth, cutting him off.

"Isaac. We are in a hallway surrounded by people I don't trust with a lot of information. Can you not?" Stiles asked.

"Sorry." Isaac said when Stiles moved his hand. "I saw him this morning, and he had the cuff, but he wouldn't say anything. He said he was calling a meeting tonight."

"Can you...please...not tell anyone while we're in school? If we're all meeting up tonight, then they can all find out then. Okay?" Stiles asked.

"Of course." Isaac said. "Can I ask...did this happen after I pointed out no one knew your real name?"

"Yes, you sent me into a spiraling existential crisis that lead me to finding my soul mate. So thank you, but the rest of the story has to wait." Stiles said.

"No problem, man." Isaac brightened.

"So older or younger?" Lydia asked at lunch.

"Excuse me?" Stiles asked, choking on a piece of apple.

"Your cuff. No one else came to school claimed. Which means they aren't a current student here. So I'm asking if your soul mate is younger or older than you." Lydia said.

"Older." Stiles admitted.

"How did you find each other?" Lydia asked.

"In the back alley of a Burger King. You really think I'm sharing that story here?" Stiles rolled his eyes.

"Maybe it's just a punk trick." Jackson taunted.

Stiles looked at him with such a scathing and violent stare that Jackson froze. Even the rest of the table goes still, watching.

"Stiles, breathe. He didn't mean it." Scott said.

"Yes. He. Did." Stiles ground out, looking Jackson in the eye, daring him to argue.

"What? Like I'm the only one who finds it a little hard to believe that _Stiles_ managed to find someone willing to put up with him as a partner for life?" Jackson rolled his eyes. "Come on."

Lydia is the one who surprises everyone. She smacks Jackson soundly across the face.

"He wouldn't have a name on his wrist if there wasn't at least one. Just because you can't see him doesn't mean no one else can." She hissed. "That's horrible of you to believe. Everyone deserves love."

Stiles looks stunned. Jackson has the common sense to look ashamed.

"Thank you, Lyd." Stiles said quietly.

She fixed him with a bright and loving smile.

"Congratulations, Stiles." She said.

He feels a little tug on his heart. He may not be in love with Lydia Martin anymore, but he'll always love her. Bless that woman.

Stiles didn't know how he ended up playing chaperone, but Isaac, Erica, and Scott all ended up in his Jeep. Boyd was catching a ride with Jackson and Lydia. Allison would be joining them, picking up Danny on her way. He had to control the urge to just fling himself into the loft, walking side by side with Isaac who threw understanding looks at him.

Derek was standing in the kitchen when they arrived his hands hidden by the second tier of the counter made for sitting at. Stiles rubbed at his cuff absentmindedly, looking at him for reassurance. Derek looked at him, and nodded.

"Take a seat." He commanded.

The wolves followed immediately, piling onto the couch. Allison curling up in the corner of the couch next to Scott. Stiles wandered over to the kitchen, sitting on one of the bar stools. He wanted to be close to Derek, rather than cuddle bunched on the couch. Danny, Lydia, and Jackson all took seats in different chairs.

"Did something happen?" Scott asked.

"Yes." Derek said.

He walked around the counter, over to the bar stools. His arms fell to his sides, not making an obvious gesture, but stood beside Stiles. Isaac broke into a grin, already knowing. Erica's laser eyes followed next.

"Your wrist." She said.

Jackson made a kind of strangled noise, and Lydia reached over and dug her nails into his arm, giving them a clear '_Ignore him'_ look. There were looks of surprise, some happiness, some confusion.

"Your soul mates?" Erica asked.

"Yes." Stiles said, a grin forming.

"But...it's been over a year." Scott said.

"Scott. Do you know my real name?" Stiles asked.

"Yeah." Scott nodded.

"Erica, do you know my real name?" Stiles asked.

"No. Just Stiles." Erica said.

"Boyd?" Stiles asked.

Boyd shook his head.

"Allison?"

"Okay, we get it." Isaac laughed. "You never told any of us your real name. Except Scott."

"Exactly." Stiles said.

"Which I pointed out yesterday." Isaac said.

"You did." Stiles nodded. "Which I thanked you for."

"You did." Isaac nodded.

"So Stiles is the alpha mate." Boyd said.

"He is." Derek nodded.

The wolves all nodded, seeming to accept the gravity of it. The humans glanced around, looking for a little more context.

"In the dynamic of a pack, Stiles is my equal. Deserves equal respect, and has equal authority." Derek said.

There were a few nods, a few thoughtful looks. Jackson didn't look exactly pleased, but he was staying silent under the glare of his soul mate, and the knowledge of what it meant to insult his alpha's mate. Especially when said alpha was there.

"So what happens next, for you two?" Isaac asked.

"Well, I'm still underage." Stiles said. "We won't be able to formally register until June. Until then, things basically stay normal. Or at least, there won't be any huge changes."

"What about after?" Erica asked.

"We're still deciding." Derek said.

"But you've accepted each other right?" Lydia asked.

"Yes." Stiles said. "He means things like where we'll live and stuff."

"How are you going to have kids?" Scott blurted.

Stiles and Derek have identical flushed faces.

"Scott, we haven't even agreed where to live. I'm not about to decided when and how babies come into this mix." Stiles said.

"Sorry." Scott said.

Stiles stayed after the pack meeting slowly disbanded, Allison offering rides to everybody who rode in his Jeep. He gave her a grateful smile and she nodded, shepherding her new herd out of the loft. He watched them go, staring at the door even after it closed.

"Do you want to live here?" Derek's question breaks him from his thoughts.

"I do." Stiles admitted. "I just wanted to make sure I still did when I wasn't so...overwhelmed."

Derek smiled, looking relieved and understanding. He reached over, touching Stiles's cuff, running a thumb across it. An upset expression crossed Stiles's face, his gaze dropped to the ground.

"Stiles? What is it?" Derek asked.

"It's nothing." Stiles murmured.

"Geniem." Derek said. "Tell me, please."

Stiles looked up. It's the first time he's heard his name come from Derek's mouth. Or anyone's really, except his family.

"It's just...something Jackson said, at lunch, before anybody but Isaac knew we were claimed to each other. Jackson...he thought I was wearing the black cuff as a joke." Stiles admitted.

A snarl ripped out of Derek, his eyes flashing red. Stiles put his free hand on Derek's chest.

"He got what was coming to him. Lydia left palmed him across the face pretty good and verbally knocked him down a couple dozen notches." Stiles said. "It was just...the fact that people might think that...it stings a little more than I'd like to admit."

Derek's against him in an instant, pressing close, hands cupping Stiles's face, lips on his. Stiles knows it's the wolf mate in him. Protecting him, comforting him with contact and affection. Kissing away the sting of others, and replacing every fiber of it with protection, family, love. Stiles is pressing against him just as fiercely, hands finding their way into Derek's hair.

Derek seems to like it, if his growing arousal has anything to say about it. Stiles moans at the feeling, hips jerking against Derek's, his own erection not hiding. Derek growls against his lips, grinding back, creating delicious friction.

"Oh, Derek." Stiles moans, their kisses breaking so Derek can pay attention to Stiles's neck.

His hands are slowly traveling south on Derek's body when his phone goes off, and he knows the ring tone too well. Groaning, he drops his arms, reaching into his pocket for his phone. Derek steps back, confused.

"It's like he knows he's cockblocking me." Stiles grumbled, and then hit accept. "Hi, dad."

Stiles somehow makes off with one of Derek's leather jackets, and it's one he's worn a lot, so it smells like Derek. He curls into it, feeling cocooned and safe. He wears it to school like a shield from the questions and rumors. Erica just smiles and gives him a one armed hug. The pack understands the jacket. No one ribs him for it.

Derek comes by the house for dinner at least three times a week. This way Stiles gets to cook new and old recipes that seemed like too much for only two people, and John gets to know Derek better. They seem to slowly reach a mutual understanding. It's a comfort to Stiles to see them putting forth the little extra effort. He can already imagine what holidays are going to be like.

"Do you want to change your last name?" Derek asked one Saturday as they lounged in the loft.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked.

"I mean, to Hale, when we register." Derek said.

"Like take your last name?" Stiles asked, turning to look at him.

"Yes." Derek said. "I know we're both the only males of our last names left, but I was still wondering, if you'd want to..."

"There are other Stilinski men." Stiles admitted. "We just don't talk to them. They didn't approve of my mom, so my dad walked away from them. He's too stubborn to turn back, even now that she's passed away."

Derek nodded, listening.

"I'd thought about it...a little. When we were talking about registers, and moving in, and everything. I think it's really sweet that you asked." Stiles smiled. "Geniem Hale. Has a nice ring to it."

"Is that a yes?" Derek asked, lips quirking into a smile.

"Yes." Stiles laughed.

Stiles laughs at how traditional they try to keep most of the things involving the move, and the registry, and the legal change of name. They even have Erica and Isaac as their two witnesses. He wears a white skinny tie as a kind of inside joke. Derek jokes that it should have been red. Stiles counters with that being the next tie.

When he's officially moved in, Derek carries him across the threshold. It's not exactly bridal style because Stiles's legs are wrapped around Derek's waist, kissing him with hard, needy kisses. But Stiles will still count it. Because why not? It's the thought that counts anyway.

It isn't until after a whole night of finally being together in their loft, that the weight and growth of those two months is obvious to Stiles. He's living with his soul mate. He's married to his soul mate.

He is completely, and forever in love with Derek Hale.

And this is just their start.


End file.
